All life from passion springs. In holy ecstasy ’Midst whir of angel-wings, Did God decree The golden stars that shine: The flaming morn, And that this flesh of mine Should once be born. And all the works of men That live indeed: Joyance of sword or pen, High thought or deed, Are in such primal fashion Contrived and wrought. God grant me fire of thought To work Thy will--with Passion! A COMMON PETITION I crave not of the wonder Of Thy full plan to see; No secret would I plunder Of guarded destiny; This only grant to me: To hear the rolling thunder Of Life--be man alive: Yet through no body’s blunder To drag the bright soul under --Drowned where it needs must dive. Keeping against all Fate That Thou hast given me-- The dual mystery Of man--inviolate. AN ADVENTURE WITH GOD Far worse than pain, Unutterable weariness Of blood and brain-- Intolerable dreariness Of days God gave me. And I bethought The first fresh flood of youth that rose to leave me, And how in those brave days-- Virgin of lust and spot-- I had forgot To render any praise. Then, as I thus looked upward through the net Wherein both soul and flesh lay cunningly caught, God (’twas like Springtime calling from the earth The flowers to birth!) Smiled down and did restore All that I had before. THE STRANGER It happened in a blood-red hell ringed round with golden weather; Walking in khaki through a trench he came, When life was death, and wounded men and great shells screamed together: I did not know his name. But so white-faced and wan, we talked a little while together Amongst dead men, and timbers black with flame. “What would you do with life again,” asks he, “if one could give it?” “No use to talk when life is done,” I say. “But, by the living God, if He should grant me life I’d live it Kinder to man, truer to God each day.” Flame and the noise of doom devoured the words, and for a while Senseless I lay.... Then, Oh, then as in a dream I saw the stranger with a smile Moving towards me over the dead men. Red, red were his hands and feet and a great hole in his side, Yet glory seemed to blaze about his head; “Kinder to man, truer to God,” he whispered, and then died; Falling down, arms outspread. Ere darkness fell upon me with the faintness and the pain, I saw a mangled body lying prone Upon the earth beside me. But what I can’t explain Is--_The stretcher-bearers found me quite alone_. But, howsoe’er it happened, it matters not at last, Since God’s dear Son came down to earth and died In bloodshed, and the darkness of clouds that groaned aghast; With pierced hands and a great wound in His side.